


The Way You Look Tonight

by toluene



Category: Batman: The Telltale Series (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-17
Updated: 2017-10-17
Packaged: 2019-01-18 09:49:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12385746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toluene/pseuds/toluene
Summary: Bruce teaches John how to dance.





	The Way You Look Tonight

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place on the same night Bruce visits the hideout, changing the timeline a bit so the heist takes place on the next night instead.
> 
> Slight Harley/Bruce, but I tried to leave it open for the reader to choose whether Bruce feels the same way or not, or if Harley’s just messing with him.

_Old Five Points_  
_9:42 PM_

Bruce sat on an old mattress in one of the partially caved-in tunnels, alone. The Pact had given him a spot to sleep for the night, providing him with only a stained pillow and a couple of thin moth-eaten sheets to keep the evening chill away. All a part of their test, he knew. To see whether or not he was willing to rough it like a common criminal—or uncommon, here—without all the comforts that came with being a billionaire.

One of Bane’s men had brought him some leftover takeout earlier, tossing it to him with all the warmth of an Arkham Asylum staff member. Bruce had eyed it with some suspicion and set it aside, untouched. He reached for it now, opening the container, some kind of meat with fried rice, and took a cautious bite. Cold, but still fresh enough not to have to worry about food poisoning, he hoped. If it didn’t have anything else added to it.

He had taken off his hat and jacket and was halfway through his meal when he heard footsteps approaching.

“Hey, Bruce. If you got a sec, I, uh, got a question for you.”

“Sure, John.” Bruce stood up, moving to stand near the tunnel entrance. “What is it?”

John looked around to see if they were alone before returning his attention to Bruce. “Now that you’ve met Harley, I’ve been wondering if there was any… advice you could give me.” He fidgeted a little. “You’re Bruce Wayne, after all. I’m sure you have plenty of experience with women. Dating, that sort of thing.”

“You’re asking me how to let Harley know you like her?”

“Exactly! Or, you know, get her to like _me_.”

Bruce wished right then that he didn’t have the reputation he had with women, but John was asking him sincerely, and he should probably say something helpful, or direct him the right way, at least.

_Tell her the truth._  
_That will be a challenge._  
_Just be yourself. _

“Just be yourself, John. At the end of the day, it’ll happen if it’s right for both of you.”

“Well, sure,” John said, frowning a little, “But I’m looking for a more concrete way to get to that point. I’ve been in Arkham for ages, Bruce. Never learned the proper protocols for this sort of thing. I know to _be_ myself, but I don’t know how to show it.”

“Well, for one, you don’t use the word protocol. It’s called courtship.”

“Oh… right, right. What else?”

Bruce leaned his back against the wall, crossing his arms and looking away from John’s expectant gaze. “I don’t know, John. I guess the standard ways to show you like someone are by taking them out for dinner, going out to a movie. Giving gifts, going dancing, sending flowers on—”

“That’s it!”

“What is?”

“Of course! Dancing! Harley’s a very _physical_ person, she’s sure to enjoy dancing! Only...” John frowned, the sudden excitement disappearing from his face. He looked at his feet, and with little warning, kicked at a pile of boards that lay nearby. Bruce hoped there weren’t any nails in them, for John’s sake.

“Hey, calm down, John. What is it?”

John didn’t answer, and instead paced about the area, muttering things that Bruce couldn’t quite catch, and then moved as if to kick the boards again. Bruce stopped him before he could with a hand on his shoulder, then slowly turned John to face him.

“You can’t dance, can you,” Bruce stated simply. Tried to sound gentle about it.

John grimaced at the words. “Of course I can _dance_. Just not the kind of dancing that matters when you really care about someone.”

“Well, that’s easy.”

“Maybe for you to say, but I know I’ll just mess up, like everything else— _I just know it_. If she even agrees—”

“What I mean is, I can teach you,” Bruce clarified. “All that experience I have, remember?”

John looked up and the hope in his eyes was enough to make Bruce think he hadn’t just been upset about it all a moment earlier. “You would do that?”

“Anything for a friend. Just find us some music and I’ll show you what I know.”

“Wonderful! I know I have a radio around here somewhere...” John left to hunt down where it was, heading in the direction of his _Ha-hacienda_ , and before long he had emerged with a radio in hand. “Come on,” he said, grabbing Bruce. “I know a better spot to practice.” He led Bruce away from the tunnel, up the stairs and past Harley’s office to an isolated area that was dimly lit, with plenty of space to move around in, decorated on one side with graffiti and out-of-service payphones and on the other with rebar and chunks of rubble.

It was perfect.

John placed the radio on the floor, staying crouched by it to turn it on, only to be met with loud static. He frowned, fiddling with the tuner, and while he tried to find a suitable station Bruce wondered for a moment just what exactly he was getting himself into.

“...There!” A few notes of a song met their ears, interlaced with heavy static. “As good as we’re going to get around here, I think.”

“That should work just fine,” Bruce said optimistically. He waited for John to stand up, then ventured a friendly, “Shall we begin?”

John smiled in response. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Bruce started by showing John the proper stance, or at least a version of it, one of his hands around John’s shoulder and one of John’s over the top of his, clasping John’s remaining hand with his own. Then, hand in hand, they began.

“I’ll lead for now, just until you get the general idea of it,” Bruce explained. The pace of the song wasn’t really the right fit for what they were practicing, but it would have to do. They kept their distance comfortably apart from each other, Bruce noticed, more than he usually would if it was a woman. “Just follow my steps, try to keep your arm relaxed. That’s it. Step with me.”

He guided John to the music, and it wasn’t long before a song came on that was more suited to the slow type of dance John was worried about, giving Bruce the opportunity to speak up again. He directed John's arm lower, readjusting his own hand over John’s shoulder, before speaking. “Alright. Now you try.”  
  
“Already?” John frowned. Bruce gave him a look that said _You’ll be fine_ , then let him take the lead.

After making a few fumbles at first, John fell into step again, smoothing out his turns with the rhythm, like Bruce had done. He grew more comfortable as they danced, his movements gaining a new fluidity and steps aligning nicely with Bruce’s own. He was actually pretty good at this, Bruce realized, once he had adjusted to the slower pace.

“I don’t know what you were so worried about,” Bruce said. “You’re doing just fine.”

“Guess the vision of it was worse than the reality. Or I have a good teacher.” John beamed at him with a smile that Bruce should probably find more unsettling than he actually did. “Not sure I’ll be as good at it with Harley, though.”

“Just focus on the music if you get nervous. Let it calm you.”

They danced a while in silence, apart from the music. The song switched again, and the warm notes of a piano appeared, sounding clear in spite of the static—or maybe Bruce had just gotten used to it. It was Billie Holiday’s _Easy Living_ , a song Bruce knew well.

“Oh! I love this one.” John’s face lit up, forgetting his movements for a moment and breaking their rhythm, his limbs alive with restless excitement.

“Not so much energy, there. It’s still a slower song, remember?” Bruce reminded him, narrowly avoiding being stepped on by John’s foot. John calmed down a bit and fell back into a slower step, and soon enough his movements were natural again, but with more enthusiasm than before. Bruce could tell John was really starting to enjoy the dance now, and he moved with renewed confidence as Bruce followed along.

Bruce also noticed that John had gotten a lot closer to him at some point, or he had to John.

“Any other advice, Bruce?” John asked, looking at him as if they were sharing something confidential.

“Well, dancing is something you kind of play by ear.”

“You mean, like reading people?” John frowned, glancing away. “I’m terrible at that.”

“You’re doing just fine with me.”

“Well, that’s because we’re friends,” John said, his confidence returning with another of his wide grins. “We already know each other.”

Bruce smiled back. “Right.” He didn’t point out the fact that John had known Harley even longer than he had known Bruce.

For a minute they were both quiet, simply enjoying the music—and, Bruce had to admit, the dancing. After a while, Bruce became aware of John moving a thumb slowly over his own where their hands were clasped. A casual, but intimate gesture.

It was starting not to feel like practice anymore.

Bruce cleared his throat as if to speak, aware of just how close they were. “And if the moment’s right, you...” Bruce stopped himself, not expecting the words to come out at all.

“You what?” John’s eyes flickered over Bruce’s face: eyes, cheeks, mouth, then eyes again, something flashing in his gaze.

“You...” Bruce began again, unsure of how he should finish his sentence.

_Kiss him._  
_Keep dancing._  
  
Bruce moved in step with John, turned slowly with the music. Leaned in closer. Felt the warmth coming off John’s chest, his face. Saw the flicker in his eyes.

“You do this,” Bruce said, then showed John what he meant.

John moved to meet him at the last moment, as if it was simply a natural progression of their dance.

As they kissed, Bruce felt an arm slide down his side, and he gently brought it away so John wouldn’t notice the gash left by Bane from his first encounter with him, holding onto it instead, and directing John’s other hand to his uninjured side, while wrapping his own around John’s back. John didn’t seem to mind, and gripped Bruce tighter, fingers digging into him, a satisfied sound escaping from his mouth.

For practice. Right.

It really didn’t feel like that, now.

After some matter of time, John pulled back from Bruce, but not away from him. They had both stopped dancing, probably at the moment Bruce had leaned in, though he wasn’t really sure at this point. The song had ended, and the static had taken over again, aside from the occasional hint of what might be another song.

John was the one to clear his throat this time. His abnormally pale face for once showed some color, though it was more like a darker shade of white. “...Like that?”

“Like that.” Bruce confirmed. Tried to sound more certain than he really was.

Slowly, realization settled into John’s features, as it had probably found its way into Bruce’s own in some manner. Realization became uncertainty, and uncertainty became discomfort. John frowned, and looked away. He stepped back, and Bruce reluctantly let go of him. “Bruce, I...”

The silence was starting to go on too long, so Bruce spoke up instead.

_I enjoyed that._  
_It wasn’t real._  
_I overstepped._

“I’m sorry, John. I guess I got caught in the moment. I hope I didn’t cross a line.”

John was still frowning, not looking directly at him. “No, no, you could never do that, Bruce.” He lifted a hand up to his head, running it uncertainly through his hair before letting it fall back to his side. “I just… I just need some time to think.”

“...I understand.” Bruce needed it, too, if he was being honest with himself. He had told Alfred he would be in and out of this place in no time at all, but realized now that maybe Alfred had had a good reason to be worried. Already it was turning into something much more than he had anticipated.

His thoughts went back to the reason why he was here, and he found himself suddenly wishing for the security of Batman’s mask. Without the distance afforded to him by Batman’s suit, he had no barriers to rely on, and he didn’t just mean the physical ones. The mental barriers were just as important, and without them, it was that much harder to keep all the aspects of himself separate, to use only the parts necessary to complete the current task.

John turned to leave, shoulders slouched—and while that wasn’t exactly unusual for him, it seemed off in Bruce’s presence. John spoke up again as he walked away, without the same enthusiasm he usually had when he was being grateful to Bruce. “Thanks again for agreeing to help me.”

There was none of the usual warmth in Bruce’s words either when he answered, though the kindness was still there, unadorned. “Of course, John.”

 

* * *

 

Later the next day, Harley pulled Bruce aside into her office.

“Have a seat.”

Bruce looked around the room, seeing only the large chair behind Harley’s desk. “There’s no place for me to sit.”

Harley sighed. “The trunk over there, then.”

Bruce made his way over to the trunk, noticing a dismembered limb on its worn green surface. He leaned down, gently sliding the mannequin’s arm off, then sat down.

“So, Brucie-boy, how’s it going gettin’ chummy with the others?”

Bruce adjusted himself a little, thankful that the trunk seemed sturdy for its age, at least. “Fine, I think. Freeze seems to accept me. Still working on Bane, though. I don’t think that fight was enough to satisfy him, but I think he’s starting to warm up to me. Or he’s just thought up some new way to try and get rid of me. Hard to tell, with him.”

“Oh, that’s just his way of testing you,” Harley said, shrugging. “You’ll be fine. Unless you fail, of course.”

“Right.”

Harley eyed him with her perceptive gaze, then slowly walked past him, toward the vanity where her baseball bat was displayed.

“John, though, he’s been actin’ kinda funny since this morning.” She crossed her arms, leaning back against the vanity, close to Bruce now. “Somehow, I gotta feeling it has something to do with _you_.”

Bruce tried playing ignorant. “Me?”

“Come on, Mr. Moneybags. I didn’t expect you to be so shy, of all people. Just tell me what happened. It’s not as if you’re in trouble.”

Bruce debated how to tell her, if he should say anything at all.

“Out with it.” She was starting to sound irritated.

_Nothing happened._  
_It was just practice._  
_We kissed._

“I kissed him.”

Shit, he had meant to give more of an explanation than that.

Harley’s eyes narrowed.

“It was—last night, I was showing him how to dance so he could do it with you sometime, so we danced for awhile, and then we kissed. That was it.”

Harley’s gaze was cutting through him now, and no matter how easily he could probably take her on as Batman—even with his injuries—right now, in this place, he felt entirely incapable of it. “I hope that doesn’t mean you don’t want me here any longer,” Bruce added, more quietly.

A crack appeared in Harley’s expression, and a second later a fit of laughter overtook her. Bruce watched in horrified silence.

“I should have known,” she said when she had recovered, wiping away a tear. “It’s sweet, really, seeing the way you two act together. God, it’s awkward, but the contrast works, somehow.”

Bruce let a weak smile show. “John might like me, but he cares for you even more, you know.” Bruce half-expected her to scoff at that, especially since she had seemed to treat John so coldly when he first met her, but like the strange sincerity she had revealed to him in her office the night before, she continued to surprise him.

“You think I don’t know that? Truth is, I do care about him, just not quite… _that way_ —you know?” She unfolded her arms. “What you gotta understand is, with John, it’s often hard for him to interpret his feelings. He gets all these ideas in his head of what he should be like, or what should happen, but they’re not always an accurate reflection of who he really is.” She paused in thought, then frowned a little. “Now that I think about it, maybe John’s just got things switched around this time. Maybe I’m the one he has a man-crush on. Girl-crush. Whatever. And _you’re_ the one he’s fallen for.”

Bruce hesitated. “I don’t know, he seemed really uncertain about it all last night.”

“During, or after?”

Bruce felt his face heat. “After, I guess.”

A smirk. “He’ll realize soon enough what’s right for him. If not, I’ll just have to do a little nudging. Force him your way.”

_I don’t know..._  
_Good idea._  
_It’s his decision._

“I think that’s his choice to make, isn’t it?”

“You can’t choose the ones you love,” she sang the words almost playfully. “Not the ones you hate, neither. He just has to realize it, is all. I just hope sooner. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad for his devotion to me, but a break from it would be nice once in a while.” She crossed her arms again, concentrating her gaze somewhere in the room in front of her. “While we’re at it, I should probably come clean with you about something else.” She paused, and Bruce waited for her to continue. “As you maybe guessed, all those moves I was making on you when we first met were just to gauge you. See how you’d react. Though I gotta admit, I can see what John likes in you. And since I’m being all honest with my feelings, I’d like you to be, too. Were you just being polite before, in the elevator, or did you want to take me up on my offer?”

_I just met you. Still don’t know you._  
_Of course I did._  
_I don’t see you like that._

“I’m sorry, Harley. You’re a very attractive person, but...” Bruce fumbled to find the words that wouldn’t offend her too much. He had a feeling she didn’t like being turned down without a good reason. “Even if I did like you, I would never want to hurt John.”

Harley stepped towards him, placing a foot next to him on the trunk. “Well, who says he couldn’t join in?” She leaned down close, forcing his full attention on her. “Ever heard of a threesome, Mr. Playboy?”

“Uh, well, I...” This wasn’t going at all where he intended.

She leaned in even closer, purposefully invading his space now. Bruce leaned back a little, but held her gaze.

Harley smiled. “I’m just kiddin’ ya, Bruce.” She winked, then pulled herself away. “Probably. Which brings me to the last point I want to make. About John.”

Then, more quickly than Bruce would have anticipated, Harley had grabbed her baseball bat off the vanity and had it pointed inches from his face. He could see several spots of dried blood on it, an accumulation from multiple encounters, no doubt. Her aim was steady.

“I know John trusts you, and I mighta let you into our little group whether or not I believe what your intentions are with us. But if you try to hurt him, you’ll have me to answer to. And it’ll be real pretty, I promise.” She waved the bat around in a small circle, his head at its center.

_I can’t guarantee that._  
_Love hurts._  
_ I would never do that to him. _

“I would never try to hurt John. He’s… I don’t know when, or why, exactly, but he’s become very special to me.”

Harley studied him a little longer, then let her arm fall to her side, clinking the tip of the bat on the floor. “Ain’t that the truth. I think you’ll find John’s the most special person you’ve ever met. He might be better than both of us, someday. But for now, he’s still growing. We gotta help him out with that.” She stepped closer to Bruce again. “Will you,” she said slowly, “help him out with that?”

“I’ll try,” Bruce answered, though he wasn’t sure exactly what Harley meant by her words. “I will,” he corrected himself when he saw her eyes narrow at his uncertainty.

“Good.” Harley nodded. “Now get out, please. I’ve gotta finish preparing for the job tonight.”

Bruce stood up, and headed for the door.

“And just so you know, for most people, I don’t say please.”

Bruce closed the door behind him, and for the second time in the past twenty-four hours, he wondered just what exactly he had gotten himself into here.


End file.
